


never laugh at live dragons.

by rushie



Category: Maleficent (2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:59:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1738862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rushie/pseuds/rushie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the scene in the stefan's castle if maleficent had turned into the dragon instead of diaval.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never laugh at live dragons.

He was dying.

She was lying here on the floor, trapped under this cursed iron net, and across the room Diaval was dying trying to protect her. It was no use, of course; everywhere the net touched her burned as if she’d been set on fire. It would only be a matter of time before she fainted, and then it was all over. Aurora had vanished; Maleficent hoped nothing had happened to her. She couldn’t do anything for Aurora, but Diaval… She could hear his anguish, his wings beating against the floor.

They could kill her—this was all her fault—but Diaval had done nothing wrong. He was here— _dying_ —because of her. It made her angry.

She felt a heat in her chest, unrelated to the burning of the neat. It spread, and as it did, she felt herself  _growing_. She watched as her arm elongated and thickened, as scales took the place of her skin. Her fingers turned into talons. Her nose and mouth elongated into a gleaming black snout. And suddenly the net was nothing but a nuisance, the iron an irritation but nothing more, and with a shake of her new body she cast it off. It landed in a heap on the ground beside her.

The guards, startled, stood transfixed for a moment. She roared, green flames erupting from her mouth, and they screamed, throwing up their shields and cowering beneath them.

“ _Dragon_!”

She swung her head, looking for Diaval. She spotted him, nearly trampled by the fleeing guards, and she shoved the men out of the way with one of her forelegs. Gently, she scooped the raven up in her mouth and deposited him on the higher level. She nudged him with her nose, snorted, worried that she had already been too late. But he stirred, and she was satisfied enough to turn back to her attackers. She roared again, bathing them in green flame. Fires crackled throughout the room, until the only one left in the room was the king himself. He stepped up in his iron armor, pushed down the visor of his helmet, and drew his sword. Maleficent looked down her snout at him, her eyes narrowed.

She growled. She had waited for this for a very long time.

 

* * *

 

Diaval recovered with more wounded pride than anything else. He complained, vociferously, for at least a week that she should have turned him into something more useful.

"What could I have done for you as a  _raven_?”

Maleficent rolled her eyes and leaned her head back against the tree trunk. She had heard this speech before. “Diaval, are you  _still_  talking about this?”

He shifted beside her, his shoulders shuffling, and she knew his feathers would have ruffled had he been a bird. “We both nearly died because I could do nothing as a raven.”

"But we didn’t," she replied. "We survived, although to hear you speak of it we both perished most horribly."

He snorted and fell silent. She closed her eyes, listening to the burbling of the water passing by.

"Well," he said after a while, and Maleficent prepared herself for another lecture. "You were a rather impressive dragon."

She smirked.


End file.
